


The Master of Death

by Sar_Kalu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ahoy! Crackfic ahead, One shot only, it's just a bit of a lark, please do not take seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sar_Kalu/pseuds/Sar_Kalu
Summary: Being the Master of Death is not something to be ashamed of, after all, you’re doing the world a favour. No really, a frustrated, unhappy Death is a Death that will go on strike; and we wouldn’t want that would we?





	The Master of Death

Standing on the ramparts of Hogwarts Castle the day after the Battle for Hogwarts and the death of Voldemort, Harry looked out over the ground and felt a well of satisfaction rise within him. In his hands was the Elder Wand, an object that he was about to snap in half and cast away. He had no need of it after all, he had his Holly Wand in his pocket and more than happy to use it for the rest of his life. Movement behind him had Harry spinning around and staring in surprise at the man that stood before him, gaunt cheeked and dark eyed with slicked back hair wearing a tailored black suit with a pale green tie and white shirt. 

 

“Hello Master,” the man greeted him, his eyes smug and a smirk tugging at his thin lips.

 

“Death?” Harry asked incredulously, “I thought the Hallows weren’t real. Well,” Harry quickly clarified as he gestured to the wand in his hands, “I knew they were real but I thought the whole Master of Death thing was a joke!”

 

“It was no joke, Master,” Death said, his eyes hooded and dark as he slid closer to the mortal. “But, the story didn’t get it completely true either.”

 

Harry backed away nervously, “what do you mean?”

 

Death spread his bony hands in a manner that suggested that he was innocent of all wrong doings and, _dear Merlin, Harry, why would you_ _ever_ _suspect me_? “I means that you are my partner,” Death said in amusement. 

 

“Your partner?” Harry repeated in confusion. “What, am I like your boss or something?”

 

Death smiled slyly, pressing himself closer to Harry and grabbing the mortals hand and pinning it to the stone wall, anchoring Harry in place and preventing his flight. “Not exactly,” Death breathed, smiling widely and smugly. “You are mine, Master.” 

 

Death then leaned against Harry and pressed thin, chapped lips to Harry’s, squirming against the young wizard who was standing there in utter shock and confusion. Death grumbled as Harry refused to open up his mouth for a deeper kiss or take control of the immortal personification of Death. Death stepped back in frustration and glared at the dark haired mortal in irritation.

 

“You are my Master, Harry,” Death complained. “The least you could do is dominate me properly!”

 

“Dominate?!” Harry choked, his eyes bulging. 

 

Death rolled his eyes. “Yes, dominate.” Death planted his hands on his hips and scowled impressively. “What did you think being the Master of Death meant?”

 

“Death’s into S and M?” Harry gasped, clutching at the wall behind him for support as he tried to understand just what the fuck he’d gotten himself into now.

 

Death raised an eyebrow, “you didn’t know?” 

 

Harry’s mouth flapped, “how could I know?!” He squawked, “besides, I have a girlfriend!”

 

“Good, she can come too,” Death smirked. “In more ways than one.”

 

Harry fumbled for an appropriate response and promptly gave up. There were no appropriate responses here. “Why me?” He complained, staring up at the sky. 

 

Death cocked his head in confusion, dark eyes curious. “Why not you?” He asked, shrugging lightly. “I mean, have you seen your ass? You could bounce a nickel off that baby, and your eyes, don’t get me started on your eyes!” Death waxed poetically, “green as a fresh pickled toad!”

 

Harry gaped in shock, “that was you?!”

 

“Of course?” Death stared at his Master in bemusement, “you’re either not as intelligent as I thought or you are over tired and clearly need rest.”

 

“Forgive me for being confused by all of this!” Harry yelped, “learning about Death’s sexual preferences wasn’t exactly what I thought would happen when I came out here today!”

 

Death shrugged. “You are forgiven,” he said calmly. “Now, come along Master, we have much to do today and while I don’t expect you to be proficient with whips straight away I hope you can tie a decent knot.”

 

Harry gaped once more and was passively pulled from the ramparts and towards the front gate. Death got to the edge of the wards and pulled the young mortal into a loose embrace and ‘popping’ them away. Harry staggered astray landed in Death’s bedroom, a wide bay window spilled bright light onto pale cream carpets and lit dark brown walls and sheets. Death made his way over to a tall cabinet and threw the doors open wide and displayed the collection of whips, chains and ‘toys’ for Harry, who immediately gulped and paled in shock. 

 

“Now, I suggest we start small,” Death announced taking out three rope coils in varying thickness and colour, holding them out for Harry to inspect. “Which colour and thickness would you prefer? I’ve always enjoyed the black rope, its deliciously rough; although the white rope shows of the blood stains so much better.”

 

Harry stared at the obviously insane immortal and let out a gargle, his eyes wide and horrified. Death waited patiently before rolling his eyes and setting the tan and white ropes away and holding out the black one.

 

“Black it is then,” Death decided. “Now Master, tie me up and have your wicked way with me. I want to be able to feel you for a week.”

 

Harry whimpered but reached for the rope and Death had never looked more smug…


End file.
